


Just Shut Your Mouth (and Know that You Mean Everything to Me)

by cheerynoir



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Balon Greyjoy is an awful human being, Gen, Hugging, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, POV Third Person Limited, Present Tense, Robb Stark doesn't have time for your hypermasculine bullshit, Robb and Smalljon live together in college - Theon sleeps on their couch a lot, Robb deals, Robb loves Theon is doesn't matter how, Theon has weird coping mechanisms, Theon needs a hug, and a worse father, it could be platonic or it could be preslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-31
Updated: 2015-05-31
Packaged: 2018-04-02 02:59:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4043251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheerynoir/pseuds/cheerynoir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Robb is twelve when the mirrored aviators become a fixture on Theon's face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Shut Your Mouth (and Know that You Mean Everything to Me)

Robb is twelve when the mirrored aviators become a fixture on Theon’s face.

When he asks, Theon just shrugs, smirks, and tells him they look cool. But later, when he turns away to grab his bag - held together with duct tape and hope - from the front hall as he's leaving, Robb is pretty sure he sees bruising behind the shades.

They don’t go away, and it becomes a running joke to their friends. Sansa never has to worry about what to buy Theon for his name-day, because he always needs another pair of sunglasses. Personally, Robb kind of thinks it’s a cop-out.

But it doesn’t stop there; Sam asks, meek, after a solid month of lurking in Jon’s shadow, if Theon has a medical condition - or a missing eye - and Jon just laughs him off and tell him that Theon’s just a douchebag. Smalljon, years later, will say that Greyjoy is like a bat - clearly he doesn’t need to see to get around, since he can’t be bothered to take his sunglasses off at night, or indoors.

It doesn’t bother him, not really, until Robb wakes up from a nap and can’t remember what colour Theon’s eyes are, what their shape is, if they’re wide-set or sunken.

He finds Theon in the kitchen of his-and-Smalljon’s flat, making coffee. He hadn’t been here when Robb staggered in from class and passed out, trying to sleep off his Ethics midterm, but this wouldn’t be the first time Theon’s materialized in Robb’s life without warning. "May I?“ he asks, hands hovering. Theon’s mouth thins for a second before he jerks his chin, noncommittal.

Robb takes the mirrored sunglasses off gently, folds the arms and sets them aside on the counter. A knot in his chest eases and he watches, rapt, as Theon’s pupils contract. His eyes are the colour of gun-metal, of storm-clouds heavy with rain, of a sea in the middle of a hurricane. They’re narrow, and his eyelashes are girlishly long. There a scar, just a nick, at the outside corner of his left eye, where he says he fell and clipped his face off the edge of the coffee-table when he was six, and a raised line of scar-tissue through his right eyebrow, where one of his brothers pulled out his piercing when they were drunk.

Theon winces a little at the light. ”’s bright,“ he mutters, squinting, before his eyes adjust. Robb smiles a little and doesn’t comment.

Robb traces the scarring with the pad of his thumb, gently, so gently, and Theon doesn’t startle away. There are dark bags under his eyes, and he sways into the touch. Robb doesn’t even think he’s aware he’s doing it, and he doesn’t acknowledge it, because if he does, Theon will put so much distance between them that Robb can’t stand it. But he wonders when Theon last slept, if his insomnia is flaring up again, or if it’s his jobs keeping him awake such long hours. He wants to ask and doesn’t – he knows Theon will only laugh off his concern with a smile that won’t touch those eyes.

"Looked your fill?” Theon asks roughly, after a small eternity has passed. His voice is soft, like they’re talking in church. Robb shakes his head mutely, breathes deeply. The air smells like coffee and Theon’s cologne. Something in Robb settles at that, mellows and relaxes. He breathes out slowly.

“Never,” he replies. He slides his hand from Theon’s face into his hair and guides him down, until his forehead rests in the cradle of Robb’s neck and shoulder. He slides his arm around Theon’s back, and hates the way he can feel the press of his bones even through three layers of cloth. It takes a minute for Theon to melt, to wrap both arms around Robb’s waist. They don’t do this often enough, and Robb _wishes_ –

They stand like that a while, entangled. A clock ticks somewhere down the hall.

“Missed you,” Robb says into Theon’s unruly black hair. When he breathes, all he can smell is Theon’s coconut shampoo.

“Stupid,” mutters Theon. His fingers press cool against the small of Robb’s back. His breath is a warm wash, damp against Robb’s neck, and it is all he can do to keep from shivering. “I didn’t go anywhere.”

“Missed you anyway.”

Theon scoffs, but they stay like that until the front door opens and Smalljon comes tromping in like a herd of baby elephants. 

If Robb is reluctant to let him go, no one needs to know.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading - this is a bit different from what I'm used to, but hopefully you like it alright. Unbeta'd, so if you see anything wrong, let me know.
> 
> Also, the title comes from a song by the Goo Goo Dolls and the idea came from a headcanon of mine which you can find [HERE](http://cheerynoir.tumblr.com/post/111948538414/random-headcanon-modern-au-theon-is-that-douche#notes).
> 
> I'm on [tumblr](http://www.cheerynoir.tumblr.com/); come say hi.


End file.
